


Pinch of Salt

by geeketeer



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: AU Season 1, Flashbacks, Gang Rape, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prompt Fill, Rape Aftermath, Severe Injury, Sexual Assault, Tigger Warnings:, Verbal Abuse, slow build romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-10
Updated: 2014-06-15
Packaged: 2018-01-18 20:25:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1441723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geeketeer/pseuds/geeketeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Season 1. A group of people who read Freddie Lounds's articles believe Will is the Chesapeake Ripper  and decide to teach him a lesson he won't soon forget.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an attempted [prompt](http://hannibalkink.dreamwidth.org/3819.html?thread=6747115#cmt6747115) fill. It has been needling me for a bit, even though it isn't something I would normally consider writing and I finally got to writing it so it will leave me alone. Please note the trigger warnings for sexual assault, verbal abuse, violence, kidnapping, non-con drug use and severe injury for future chapters. Any mistakes are my own and usually due to my faulty memory. Enjoy!

**_“Every man has a right to his opinion, but no man has a right to be wrong in his facts.” -Bernard Baruch_ **

'Why did the suspects always have to fight instead of coming in quietly?' Will wondered as he chased Joesph Garner, the Fairy Tale Killer, through a clump of thick bushes.

The buff librarian was obsessed with classic fairy tales and strove to find just the right woman to help shape his own "happily ever after." Garner found single women through various dating websites and would convince them to come to his home in the countryside for weekend dates. When the women failed to meet his expectations, he would kill them through various methods then stage them in various fairy tale scenes.

The first woman was found three months ago, pieces of apple lodged in her throat and entombed in several plexiglass boxes. The next woman had been strangled with her long blond hair which had been cut off with dull shears and propped up next to a cardboard tower. Another woman had been found crushed under several mattresses with peapods clutched in her hand. Two women had been found together, one drowned in golden liquid and the other in a black liquid.

Garner had been preparing to kill his latest victim by strangling her with the arms of a mock donkey skin when the BAU team and other FBI members showed up at his home. He pushed the woman to the ground and ran towards the nearby forest with Will right on his heels.

The librarian dashed between trees and knocked debris into the Federal Agent’s path in an attempt to slow him down. Will managed to keep Garner in sight, although he was forced to slow down due to several thick tree limbs which almost made him trip.

Will managed to make it past the fallen tree limbs and ran in the same pattern he saw Garner take. He ran until a lake was in sight—but not Garner. The agent tried to keep his breathing even and his steps light in an attempt to not alert the murderer to his presence as he slowly searched the area with his gun drawn.

Will turned as a rustling and was a half-heartbeat too late to avoid being tackled to the ground by Garner, his weapon flew from his hand and landed out of sight in the underbrush. The men rolled on the ground in an attempt to get the upper hand on the other. The librarian managed to get to his feet, pulled the special agent up by the back of his jacket and dragged him to the lake.

The captive man kicked, punched and attempted to wriggle out of the man’s hold with little to show for it. Garner waded into the lake until the water reached the six foot five man’s waist , shoved Will underwater and held him down on his shoulders.

Will clawed at the toned arms and drew thin strips of blood with his dull fingernails as he fought for his life. His lungs started to burn as he fought the instinct to gasp and his vision started to blur the filtered light into a darkened edge. Suddenly, the grip on Will’s shoulders loosened and Will felt himself yanked from the water onto land.

He coughed up a bit of water which he accidentally swallowed and rested on his side as he took in the scene around him. Jack and Beverly had Garner in cuffs and were in the process of reading him his rights as they dragged him out of the forest. Neither of them were wet, so who…

A soft, warm fabric wrapped around Will and he jerked his head the side and met Hannibal’s worried gaze. The doctor made a quick assessment of Will’s vitals before he was satisfied there wasn’t any lasting damage to the special agent. Hannibal gracefully flowed onto his feet and gently tugged Will onto his feet. Will glance at Hannibal’s attire and couldn’t help but stare.

The doctor’s clothes were damp and faintly smelled of algae….which meant….

“Han-Hannibal…you…,” Will sputtered, brain not quite processing what Hannibal did to ensure his safety. The doctor gave Will a thin smile while he guided him towards the edge of the forest. Will noted that the chase had not gone as far as he had originally though as the cabin quickly came into view. Then again, time seems hard to keep track of when adrenaline kicks in.

“Of course I did, Will. You are my friend, after all, and I only wish the best for you.” Hannibal stated with an semi-amused expression. “I accompanied Jack and Beverly as it seemed Mr. Garner would be quite…a challenge, as he is a rather strapping specimen of the male species. I’ve had to handle patients who are quite rowdy and are as…hardy as our killer is.”

Will fingered the fabric around him when he almost froze in realization. The psychiatrist has wrapped his coat around him after he pulled him from the water. “Aren’t you..,” Will started but Hannibal wouldn’t hear of it and cast a chastising look at him.

“Will, you were in the water for far longer than it took me to get you out and you are completely drenched, please do not think of it. As I have said before, you are my friend and I only want the best for you,” the doctor murmured as they reached the squad SUV they arrived in and guided them to sit on the edge of the open cargo area.

The empath looked at his feet and attempted to squash down the guilt he felt for having Hannibal to ruin his clothes and coat from the lake water. Hannibal’s lips quirked at the edges when he caught Will’s body language. Ruined clothes, after all, were a small price to pay in order to keep his little mongoose around until it was time for the endgame after all.

Though the doctor had not expected Garner to attempt to drown Will however.....and felt a slight ache in his chest at the thought of Will’s dead body in the lake.

He probably shouldn’t have eaten the motorcyclist who almost sideswiped his car. The meat must have been off and given him indigestion.

Jack approached Will and clapped him on the shoulder. “That’s it for this case. Go home, dry off and rest up for when the next one comes along,” he said. He started to turn away but then quickly turned back to Will and withdrew Will’s gun from his belt. “And don’t go losing this again, understand?”

Will accepted the gun and nodded. Jack went to his vehicle and left the scene.

Beverly came up to them and smiled. “Heck of a chase, eh? All that’s left is the paperwork and such…time to call it a day. Did you two drive from your homes or from headquarters?”

“Jack had us picked up from our respective homes, Ms. Katz,” Hannibal said.

She nodded. “That’s fine; I’ll drop the both of you off before I get started on that mountain of paperwork.” The three climbed into the SUV, Beverly in the driver’s seat and the other two in the backseat, neither willing to subject her to their musty clothes.

As they drove, Will remembered his cell phone had been in his pocket when he was dumped in the lake and managed to fish it out to check on the electronic item’s status. He made a face at the device as he pressed the on button to see if it still worked.

Beverly saw his actions and winced. Jack hated when he could not be in contact with his team when he needed them, so having a cell phone on or near their persons at all times was a must. “So what’s the damage, Teach? Will it live to make another call?”

Will flicked his blue eyes at her before they settled back on the phone. When the screen pulled up, he gave a quick test to some of the phone’s functions.

“To be fair, the damage could have been a lot worse. I can still access all my contact information, though the buttons are sticking a bit and not wanting to work right,” he stated and glanced at Hannibal. “Hannibal, do you have your phone with you? I need to see if my phone will make calls and since Beverly is driving…”

The doctor nodded and told Will it was in his coat and to check the inner pocket. Will pulled it out and handed it to Hannibal. He nodded to the profiler when he was ready.

Will called the doctor’s cell phone. It turned out it could make calls and they could hear Will's voice talk through Hannibal's phone ….but the listening part of Will's phone no longer worked. He attempted to text but the program froze and set itself back to the phone’s home screen. Will sighed and put his phone away.  

“Looks like I’ll be getting a new phone after all,” he mumbled. Will bit the corner of his lips and turned the phone over in his hands. “The store is closed by now, so it will have to wait until later. Beverly, can you please..”

“Tell Jack to call your landline in case he needs you? No problem,” she said and looked at the teacher’s reflection in her rearview mirror. “Though, the sooner you get that taken care of, the better.”

Will hummed in agreement and looked out the window as the scenery changed to the more familiar surroundings of Wolf Trap. He could hear the cheerful barks of his furry family as they pulled into his drive and handed the coat back to Hannibal as he exited the vehicle. Will was rebuffed by the doctor when he offered to help pay the cost of either cleaning or replacing the coat and clothes.

He watched them drive away until he could no longer see them and went inside his home to greet his dogs and change into dry clothes. Will let the dogs out, put their food and water down and let them back in. With the dogs’ needs tended to, he patted a few on the head before he grabbed his laptop and looked at his cell phone provider’s website for replacement phones and the store hours.

At least it was the weekend, which meant he had time to get a replacement phone. Until then, he would have to make do with his landline and pray no one needed him until then. Will lived without a cell phone for a few years before, what difference should a day make?

* * *

 Freddie Lounds smiled as she posted her latest article in the queue to be posted on TattleCrime.com about Will Graham. There was no doubt in her mind that the man was a psychopath and most likely a killer.

It was a shame that she could not find any of his psychological or medical records to back her up when she snooped around in his home and that none of his past doctors where willing to grant her an interview about the unstable man.

Not to mention the damnable man refused to grant her an interview, none the less be within a certain distance of her.

Well, a few phone calls to Graham’s ex-co-workers from the New Orleans Police Department, a worn out saying or two , a bit of …doctored up opinions which leaned toward fact and a few photographs took care of spicing up the article.

By the end of day tomorrow, the world would see the insane man for what he really was.

A monster hidden in among the masses.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh.My.Gosh. People are actually reading this and are actually following this. I cannot thank ya'll enough for the kudos, comments and subscriptions. I thought this chapter would take longer to write itself....but I proved myself wrong, so good news for you.

_**“False words are not only evil in themselves, but they infect the soul with evil” -Plato** _

 FBI Employs Will Graham to Catch Killers: But Can He Be Trusted? 

Freddie Lounds

Joseph Garner, the Fairy Tale Killer, was recently caught and reprehended by Will Graham, a teacher and profiler for the FBI. In fact, many killers have been brought to justice by Graham—but how?

Due to his supposed “empathetic” gifts, which allow him to “read” the minds of psychopaths, sociopaths and other types of serial killers.

This reporter extremely doubts Graham’s supposed “gift” to catch these menaces on society. After all, it does take one to know one.

A few of Graham’s ex-fellow officers on the New Orleans Police Department came forward with a few statements about Graham but have asked to remain anonymous due to career and personal reasons.

“It was creepy how he’d manage to get into these sickos’ heads,” said Officer D. “It was almost like he was there watchin’ the entire thing when it played out as he described what played out at the crime scene. It freaked a lot of us guys out.”

“And Graham wouldn’t just stand there reciting what happened,” Officer M interrupted. “The guy would move about and sometimes act how the killer moved through the area and committed the crime. He’d have this look on his face…um, like he really understood how these wackjobs felt while they killed their victims….it was unreal. There was a betting pool on when he’d flip out for good.”

Officer H said “, Yeah, it was almost too perfect on how he managed to get inside these guys heads to catch’em. And well..” the officer paused and looked thoughtful. “To be honest, the guy was just plain weird, ya know? Never would look no one in the eye and fidgeted a whole bunch. Never could stay still.”

Sounds a bit fishy, doesn’t it? If Graham were telling the truth about the crime scenes, shouldn’t he be looking his fellows directly in their eyes and tell them how the crime was committed while staying in one place with confidence?

Another point to consider: Out of all the killers Graham has profiled for the FBI, only one has remained free…

The Chesapeake Ripper.

Isn’t it odd how this is the only serial killer who is free on Graham’s watch? And where exactly was Graham when these killings have taken place? It isn’t like he has a solid alibi—he lives in the middle of nowhere and there aren’t any neighbors to validate his comings and goings.

Not to mention that I have heard whisperings of how he had a “breakdown” at a particularly gruesome scene during his time on the New Orleans Police Force and was so "traumatized" by what he "felt" from the killer, the suspect was on the run for two days until he was shot in a stand-off with police.

One has to wonder what sort of feelings it was the so called “empath” felt?

Revulsion for the crime? Anger for whatever circumstances led the killer to choose the victim? Pity for the victim’s final moments?

Or….dare I say it, respect and awe for the killer? Could his so-called “breakdown” have been a performance to give the suspect a chance to escape to continue his work?

No one really knows for sure. Only Graham himself could answer that but I’m not sure we could trust the answer he would provide.

Only time will reveal what side of the line Will Graham stands on.

See you next crime.

* * *

Will rubbed his face and sighed as he shut his laptop and put it on his nightstand. He originally did not have a computer but purchased one and had internet access installed so he could keep up with the news. It was better to know what was said behind your back and prepare for the fall out instead of walking blind into a potential hazard, after all.

“Fucking Freddie Lounds strikes again,” he groused. For a so called “journalist”, she seemed to heavily base her articles on conjecture instead of the cold, hard facts. Not to mention how many crime scenes she snuck into to take notes and pictures without caring if she had contaminated the scene.

No wonder she could not find a job at a respectable news institution instead of that hack blog.

The empath had no doubt Lounds would someday publish vital information in her articles which would tip off a killer and allow them to either escalate or escape the country before they faced justice. No matter how much everyone on the taskforce begged their superiors to ban her from scenes, or at least arrest her for publishing critical information about crimes, they were told they could not.

Bloggers and journalists, even unethical and sleazy ones as Lounds, were protected under the First Amendment and could not be charged with a crime unless significant proof could be shown that they were in the wrong and the information damaged someone in someway. It usually wasn’t worth the court costs to bring libel suits against people like Lounds who wrote for muckraking sites such as TattleCrime.com. 

‘Still be nice to have her off my back for once,’ the teacher grumpily thought as he rested against the headboard. ‘Too many people take her word for gospel and hurl abuse at us when they have no clue what we do is nothing like what is shown on television. Jack would probably be far less stressed.’

Will flinched at the ringing for his landline and wondered why the caller didn’t call his cell—until he remembered the device’s listening speaker wasn’t working.

He tossed the covers off his legs and stretched as he padded into the kitchen to pick up the receiver.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Will,” a decidedly chipper female voice said. “And how is your day so far?”

Alana must have already read the article.

He pondered on telling her he was fine but decided to go for the truth; it was far too early on a Saturday to be fibbing. “Could be better; just wish Lounds would take a crack at someone else for a change.”

“No kidding,” Alana said. “What did you do to earn her wrath, anyway? She seems to be picking on you a lot lately.”

“Ah, well…”

“Oh, oh, I know,” she interrupted. Will could practically hear the smirk form on her face. “I bet she couldn’t resist the ol’ Graham charm and asked you out, which you turned down.”

Will pulled the phone from his ear and looked at it with disgust. He didn’t know how long he stared at it until he heard Alana’s voice calling his name and placed the phone back to his ear.

“Yeah, I’m still here,” he grumbled while he shuffled toward the coffee machine. No way did he want to continue this conversation unless he had some life giving caffeine in him. Will grabbed the coffee tin, scooped some grounds into the machine’s reusable filter, made sure there was enough water in the machine’s reservoir and turned it on.

“Will, you know I’m just teasing,” Alana said gently. “I know how badly her articles affect you and the others.”

“She’d be more of an asset if she would work with us instead of attempting to make us look incompetent all the time,” Will admitted while he watched dark fluid start to drip into the glass pot. “Lounds is too ambitious to make a name for herself and doesn’t care what she has to do to get on the top.”

He grabbed a clean mug from a nearby cupboard and plopped it down next to the slowly filling coffee pot. “I’m guessing someone filled you in on what happened yesterday? Otherwise you’d call my cell.”

“Yes, Hannibal told me all about yesterday’s happenings.”

Will closed his eyes and resisted the urge to thunk his head against the worn countertop.

“Did he now?” He slowly asked. 

“Mmmhmm. Also something about chasing a suspect without waiting for Jack?”

“Jack was behind me, just…a bit slower,” Will said as he measured a few heaping spoonfuls of sugar into the mug and stared at the coffee machine. Didn’t that damn thing know he needed that sweet, wonderful, life giving liquid now instead of a week from now? “I’m fine, Alana. I just got a bit waterlogged.”

A muffled sigh wafted from the phone. “I know, I know. ‘I’m a full grown man and don’t need my hand held every time something goes wrong.’”

Will’s lips formed a tight smile as he held a laugh back. So she did listen to him, after all.

“And no sassing me, you,” Alana scolded. “ I can’t help but worry since you don’t worry about yourself enough.”

“So I’ve been told,” said Will as he snatched the blessedly full coffee pot from the machine and poured it into the mug. A swish of the spoon to concoct the perfect mixture of liquid and sugar—a little sip...

Perfect.

Will tucked the phone into his shoulder and brought the mug of ambrosia with him as he walked toward the back door to let the dogs out. “Alana, you know I don’t go looking for trouble.”

“No, it just seems to always find you and attempt to strangle you or kill you in other ways,” she huffed. “Seriously, though? This article will probably make things hard for you for awhile. Maybe you should lay low for a few days. Stay in the house, play with the dogs…and maybe catch up on some sleep, while you’re at it.”

“Hmm, if only that were possible,” he muttered. “I have to go into town for a new cell, Alana. You know how Jack gets twitchy when he can’t contact us twenty-four-seven.”

Will could have sworn she just muttered something about Jack needing to lay off the control freak power trip but decided not to call her out on it.

"Just...just promise you'll be careful, okay? I just have a horrible feeling that something is going to happen," Alana said desperately.

He couldn't hold back the wide smile which formed as he watched to dogs play in the backyard and took a long swig of his coffee. "Nothing is going to happen, Alana. Just a quick phone and supply run then I'll head right back home. I'll give you a call when I'm back, will that work for you?"

"I suppose..."

"Honestly, Alana, how many people are really going to take Lounds that seriously? Everything will be fine."

"Ugh, fine. Since I can't seem to dissuade you otherwise...so, how are the cute, furry children?"

* * *

 Hannibal put his tablet on the kitchen counter with disgust. How dare the woman write such rude things about his dearest William?

He froze as his hand reached for a clear mug at that thought. When did he start thinking of William as “his”? The doctor closed his eyes and slipped into his mind palace to search for the answer.

Ah…of course. It started when he had thought that odious Tobias Budge had killed the profiler. The cannibal could not deny he had killed Budge in retaliation for the empath’s supposed death and the relief that washed over him when William dashed through his door in one piece, more or less.

The doctor took the mug and poured coffee into it. The special agent started out as a project, to see how far he could be pushed before he gave into the madness that lurked in the corners of his mind.This would then allow Hannibal to plant evidence which would point towards William being the Ripper…

But now?

Hannibal sipped at his coffee as he walked to the fridge to take out a slab of bacon, made from a clerk who tried to short change him as well as eggs, goat cheese and a few other ingredients which would form breakfast.

William was like him, lonely in his uniqueness and the closest thing to a friend the psychiatrist had. Hannibal supposed it was natural that he started being possessive of the only man who had the ability to understand him.

The corner of his lips twitched downward as he sliced the bacon slab into strips as he considered what to do with the special agent. Killing him was out, as was framing him as a serial killer—that would put his William in the hands of that idiot Chilton, after all.

And Hannibal was sure William’s morals would not allow him to transform into a killer…but perhaps…the profiler’s eyes could at least be opened to the beauty of death.

To become a patron to the doctor’s art of murder…to listen to William’s observations about the pigs he dispatched—oh, how wonderful would that be… to be able to have his empath tell him directly about the scenes with full knowledge of who Hannibal really was.

He would, of course, have to undo some of the work he already put in place but the new prize of his game with Uncle Jack would be worth it. The trick would be convincing the man not to go running to Jack, once he discovered Hannibal's true nature.

Hannibal fully grinned as he set the cut bacon aside to prepare the other ingredients. It would take longer to execute than his previous plans but he had time.

The rolodex caught his eye as he moved to pluck some fresh herbs. Of course, the first step would be to prove William’s innocence of that pig’s accusations…

* * *

 “So we are agreed? We can’t let that psychopath get away without justice.”

A few other men nodded as their friend got up from his laptop to pace around their table in far corner of the bar. The screen was still set on Freddie Lounds’ article.

“I just can’t believe that we didn’t see it before, I mean…he’s, well…you know…what you’d expect,” one man said as he nursed a beer. "And how'd you know he's gonna be in this area today, anyway?"

The man stopped his pacing and glared at him before taking a quick look around to ensure no one overheard them. “It doesn’t matter. By the end of today, he gets what he deserves.”

* * *

 ‘I really should have listened to Alana,’ Will thought as yet another person gave him a wide berth and glare as he approached the bar next to the cell phone store. Nothing for it, he'd just endure the glares and looks of hate instead of having to listen to Jack bitch about not being able to get a hold of Will when he needed him.

He sighed as he fiddled with the half-useless phone in his pocket. Will had turned it on earlier and pretended to have conversations with his co-workers about cases when it looked like people may start to harass him. He really hoped that the store had the same model phone in stock; he really didn’t want to deal with learning a phone layout…

Will was rudely jerked from his thoughts when he was unexpectedly pulled backwards by strong hands and dragged towards the end of the dead-end alley next to the bar.

“Well, if it isn’t the Chesapeake Ripper, himself. We’ve been waiting for you, Will Graham.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just bumped up the rating from Mature to Explicit due to the next chapter. Everyone is gonna hate me for the next chapter....


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took long time to write this chapter due to the content. I probably wrote then rewrote this over 20 times. Seriously, have tissues at the ready...I made myself cry after I wrote this. Beware the trigger warnings for rape, abuse, etc. You have been warned.

**_“Lies are like poison. If you get a little bit in your system, it spreads until it destroys you.” -Nikki Rae_ **

Will gaped at the alley’s back wall when he recognized the voice. “Chris Jones? From Ballistics? What are you...?”

A large hand grabbed the profiler’s curly hair. “Do. Not. Attempt. To. Deny. It. Ripper.” Will’s forehead hit the brick wall with each word. He felt blood swell from split skin from where his forehead met the wall and drip down his face. The area blurred around him as he was twirled around and was pinned to the wall, facing his attackers.

The tall, red-haired man who held him against the wall was Jones. Will squinted and attempted to blink blood away from his eyes while he attempted to get a read on the four men behind his captor. His jaw fell at the sight of a young, medium-built blond. “David Ramirez?”

Ramirez glared at Will and clenched his fists at his sides.

“You betrayed me, Professor,” he spat out. “I can’t believe I actually looked up to you…I can’t believe I didn’t see it before. Daddy always said to never trust a man who couldn’t look you in the eye….and I made an exception for you, wanted to learn how…” Ramirez looked away and clenched his jaw. “It doesn’t matter anymore, we all see you for what you are.”

Will’s head started to throb and his chest tightened. He felt like his insides were clawing and constricting at the same time as the five men practically snarled at him. He tried to keep his face blank as he realized he was picking up on their anger towards him.

He licked his lips. “God, is this about Lounds’ article? Look—” Jones backslapped Will’s left cheek, the force of it made the empath’s glasses fly from his face and land near Jones’ feet. Jones bared his teeth at Will and stomped on the corrective lenses.

The pressure in Will’s chest became heavier and he almost felt like he was suffocating due to the sheer rage that rolled off the five men. It also did not help his empathy was attempting to fully kick-in so he could see this…this ambush from their point of view. Fighting off his empathy was not helping the throbbing in his head and made it hard to think.

A lanky brunette slung a backpack from around his shoulder to his chest and dug through it. He soon held two thick leather belts in his hand as well as a small box. Jones then moved Will’s arms over his head and Will looked up when his arms touched cold metal.

His eyes widened at the thick, sturdy piping which rested not far above his head—he hadn’t noticed it before as he had been more concerned with the attack rather than the details of the alley. Will attempted to struggle when the belts started to wrap around his arms to hold him in place and received a punch to his side for his trouble. He didn’t see who had hit him but figured the man must have worn a knuckle duster with how much his side now hurt.

Will turned his attention back to the brunette and stiffened a syringe and bottle was pulled out of the box. The man gave the teacher a smug grin as he filled the syringe. “Oh, don’t you worry,” he sing-songed. “This is my own special cocktail which will insure you remember everything we do to you but you won’t be able to do anything but lie there.” The man darted forward, pushed Will’s shirt up and jabbed the needle into his side.

“Though you’ll wish you could forget once we’re through with you." 

* * *

 Hannibal internally smirked as he walked into Jack’s office to help with paperwork to finish the Fairy Tale Killer case. He had finished the Chesapeake Ripper’s latest artwork made from an especially rude coffee barista who had insulted a woman who requested soy milk instead of regular milk due to an allergy and then insulted Hannibal by asking him to repeat his coffee order as he couldn’t “understand him due to his funny accent.” The doctor had great pleasure ripping out the barista’s tongue first as he slowly killed him. 

At least the pig now served a higher purpose—to exonerate Will from Freddie Lounds’ claims of William being the Ripper. Hannibal made sure to time the man’s disappearance and death to the approximate time dear William would be at the store to get a new phone. He gave Jack a nod as he sat down in front of his desk.

“Good afternoon, Doctor,” Jack said as he handed him some paperwork. “ I just need you fill some of these forms out for the file.”

Hannibal nodded as he took the papers and started to fill them out. “Did William already do his paperwork?”

Jack tapped his fingers on his desk and sat back in his chair. “ Not yet, I’ll give him a call within fifteen minutes or so, he said he’d have gotten a new phone around this time today when I called his house earlier today.”

Hannibal gave Jack a small, tight smile and moved to hand Jack the finished paperwork when his phone rang. He looked at the phone’s id and saw it was William. “He must have gotten his phone, Agent Crawford. This is him now.”

“Please put him on the speaker doctor. I’d like to ask him a quick question about the case while I’m thinking about it.”

The doctor gave him a slight nod of the head and hit the appropriate buttons to pick up the call. Hannibal opened his mouth to greet William –

“HIT HIM HARDER! HOW DO YOU LIKE THAT, YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH?! THIS IS ONLY THE START OF YOUR PUNISHMENT, YOU MURDERER!”

Hannibal and Jack stared at the cell phone and gaped. Jack was the first to recover and roared into the phone. “WHO THE HELL IS THIS?! WILL, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

A muffled whimper met the mens’ ears and another, calmer, voice said “, Let’s move on to the crowbar, shall we? We don’t want to hurt ourselves as while we punish this _pig_.”

Jack quickly moved to the phone on his desk and dialed a number. “This is Federal Agent Crawford, I need a trace on Will Graham’s cell phone NOW. Why? He’s being attacked and we can hear it through his phone, THAT’S WHY. Notify me on my cell as soon as you have a hit and dispatch medical personal immediately.” He slammed the phone down and stood to grab his gun, cell phone and badge.

Hannibal also stood and ran alongside Jack down the hall to collect the team as well as additional federal agents to help with William's rescue. How dare those—those—swine, no less than pigs...the doctor’s face tensed as he attempted not to grind his teeth and willed the blood away from his face. He could not keep his eyes changing from their usually calm brownish-red color to mostly maroon, however, as they continued to hear those…those thugs beat on William over the phone.

Oh, how the blood will spill and flow into rivers when he gets his hands on those responsible for daring to harm HIS federal agent.

* * *

Will groaned as his ribs ached in protest from being hit repeatedly. The five men had taken turns hitting the drugged teacher on his face, arms, torso and legs using their fists. Each blow hit harder as the men continued their assault on the empath and Will wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold his empathy in check.

The special agent had a hard enough time trying to continue to breath from feeling the sheer rage and hatred the men projected. He did not want to deal with have to viewing the attack on himself as well. 

Then he saw one of the men pulled out a crowbar. “Let’s move on to the crowbar, shall we? We don’t want to hurt ourselves while we punish this _pig_.” He felt the metal rod connect with his head and his vision blurred with blood. Will felt the cool metal go under his chin to lift his head towards the group. “Come on little pig, squeal for us. Squeal like you made your victims squeal before they died.” 

Will panted and struggled to form words through the haze of pain.

“I…told…you…already…I…am…not…the…Ripper.”

The crowbar hit the opposite side of his head in retaliation and then hit the left side of his torso. “What have we said about lying, you murderer?!”

“I’m…not…lying….”

“Well, then,” a harsh, gritty voice said. “Since you won’t admit it, let’s play Murderer Piñata, shall we?” Will felt the crowbar connect with his lower back and held back a scream. He may not be able to fight back due to whatever the hell he was drugged with but he’d be damned if he gave these idiots the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

“SCREAM GOD DAMN YOU!!”

Another swing of the crowbar hit his back and then the blows moved to his legs. Will weakly shook his head and attempted to look at his attackers in the face, which was hard due to all the blood running down into his eyes.

Will felt another blow, this time to his arms and bit his lip to prevent sound from escaping. He was an ex-cop and a special agent for the FBI—he absolutely refused to show his tormentors how much pain he was in.

Will heard and felt a crack as the crowbar repeatedly hit his back and cried out as his legs gave out from under him. Oh god…why couldn’t he control his legs? His breathing became harsh as he tried to push back the panic he felt raising up from his twisting stomach. God….Oh Mon Dieu…please don’t tell him his back was broken…

“Ah! So we finally get a reaction from our dear murderer,” one of the men sneered at him. Will couldn’t pick the men apart any longer—they long had blurred into one mass of hatred as his head pounded from the beatings and from attempting to shield his empathy.

“Now, what was that other thing Lounds’ talked about in her articles?” asked another voice, in mock consideration. “Hmmm….now what could it be, what could it be?”

“Ah, that’s right!” Will heard fingers snap as the speaker seemed to suddenly remember what Lounds’ had implied in her thrice damned articles. He hoped there was a special place in hell for her.

Will stiffened he felt hands on his waist which loosened his belt and pulled down his pants to his knees.

“She said that Graham practically got off on the murder sites.”

The teacher felt a hand stroke his face in a mockingly tender caress and felt even more hand pull down his briefs to join his jeans at his knees. Yet another hand slipped down to his flaccid penis and gave it a painful squeeze.

“Hmm…not so aroused when you’re the one in pain, are you Ripper?"

Will felt a pair of lips brush against his ear and a tongue lightly sweep along the bottom of his earlobe. A voice then whispered ", This is part of the punishment...for you to pleasure us and only get pain in return, in exchange for all the pain you took for your own pleasure during your murders."

Hands grasped at Will’s ass cheeks and spread them open. A different hand traced the teacher’s hole and slipped a finger in. “Hmm…so tight, I bet this pig never took a cock before.”

Will felt damp streaks run down his face as he attempted not to flinch from the pain from the unprepared finger in his ass. He couldn’t tell if he finally broke down and allowed tears to escape or if it was just blood. He was willing to bet it was a bit of both.

God, what had he ever done to deserve this? All he ever wanted to do was help people….and this was the thanks he got due to that fucking liar Lounds.

And why wasn’t anyone coming to check what was happening in the alley? It was the middle of the day…unless everyone thought he needed to be punished….Mon Dieu, why? Why did life hate him so much?!

Will then felt a sharp object trace down his useless legs and stop at his clothing around his knees. “I think we can get rid of these; they’ll only get in the way.” The empath heard the clothing rip as the object—pocketknife—he mentally corrected tore through the material and heard the clothing rustle as it hit the ground. Will couldn’t contain the shudder which ran through him as his lower half was completely exposed. He also dimly registered his shirt was also ripped open and hung loosely around his torso and arms in tatters. 

A large hand ran up his chest and other hands lifted Will against the wall, spread his legs wide and lifted his ass into the air. The special agent felt the other mens’ smug satisfaction at what they were about to do to him and felt his gut clench. Mon Dieu….Will felt the brick scratch at his back as he was positioned against the wall and finally allowed his tears to fall freely.

“At least the murderer is pretty to look at, eh boys?” Will felt the men laugh as he heard pants being un-zippered and the rustle of clothing to free erections. He then felt something wipe at the blood on his face and tried not to gag at the speaker’s next words.

“The only reason we are using this is so we don’t chafe when we enter you,” said the man as Will heard a squelching noise. The special agent then felt something large and hard swiftly enter him with a hard thrust and he couldn’t hold back his screams nor his empathy any longer.

His vision split into two as his cursed “gift” put him in the place of his rapist and felt the man’s twisted satisfaction that he was punishing Will. The empath could see himself and almost cried as he took in the damage the men had inflected on him. Not a single inch of his body had been left unmarked and the rape was simply one of the last punishments the men could think of to inflict on him. He could feel his insides being torn into two and wished that he was back home with his dogs, wished he never heard of Jack Crawford….

Will/the man above him moved even faster and groaned. “God, his ass is so tight and warm. Hmm….so…fucking good, this is all you’re fucking good for, a hole to be filled.” The man/Will slammed into Will with each word and sped up even faster. Will felt sick as the man’s pleasure combine with his own pain….then the man/Will grunted and temporally stilled in Will as a sticky, hot fluid jetted into the empath’s passage.

The men shifted around when another took the first one’s place and slammed into Will, without preparation. Will’s empathy kicked in again as this man took full control of the teacher’s body from the other men and slung his legs over his shoulders as he pounded into him. Will felt disgust well in his gut as the man/Will bit his chest and neck. Will/the man then pulled out of him and stroked himself to completion onto Will’s chest.

Then one man stood in front of him and another maneuvered behind him….Will attempted to struggle but the drug still made him weak and he couldn’t move much. God, not this, not this….

Will’s screams bounced off the walls as both men entered him at once and moved at the same time at a brutal pace. He could feel his ass being torn apart and his empathy couldn’t keep up with two minds at once. His vision started to black out as he imagined the sounds of sirens filter into the area.

* * *

Hannibal, Jack and other federal agents raced toward the scene where Will was as they had to listen to the sounds of Will being beaten, verbally abused and raped. They could not turn the phone off due to fear of losing the trace.

The doctor fought to keep his face in a shocked neural state when he really wanted snarl and flash his teeth at the sounds of his sweet, dear William being defiled, being lowered to pig status. Oh, these ingrates would pay—they would be strung up and gutted while they were still alive as well as whatever else Hannibal could think of later. He was too enraged to think properly about punishing those swine.

The group of FBI vehicles as well as an ambulance finally reached the area where the attack was taking place—to everyone’s surprise it was in a busy area next to the bar and cell phone shop. The agents practically leapt out of their vehicles and raced towards the alley and were forced to pull back a crowd which had gathered at the alley’s entrance. A few agents stayed for crowd control as well as to attempt to gather statements from the crowd while Hannibal, the BAU team and a few other agents raced down the alley.

They almost froze in place in horror at the sight that greeted them. Two men were forcing themselves in the beaten form of the bound, unconscious teacher and it seemed none of the men had noticed the commotion due to their tunnel vision on Will.

Hannibal suddenly flashed back to when he and his sister were held prisoner by the soldiers and the men ganged up on the young boy to drag his sister away…had she looked as beaten as his special agent had before she died? Had she been as frightened as his teacher was at the mercy of such ruthless men?

Hannibal bit back a growl as he forced his thoughts away and made to move forward when Beverly touched his arm and shook her head at him. “Let Jack and the others handle the men. I know it’s hard…but we still need to process the scene as well as get him into the ambulance.”

The psychiatrist pressed his lips together and stiffly nodded. Now was not the time to take his revenge on these _idiotai_. He repressed his angered trembling as the men realized they were surrounded and tried to flee, only to have federal agents arrest them for assault on a federal officer as well as other pending charges. The men who were caught sexually assaulting his poor William were gently torn from the abused teacher, arrested and covered up before being marched towards the FBI Prisoner Transport.

William was cut down, covered with a blanket and put on a stretcher by the ambulance crew who finally fought to get to the scene through the crowd. Hannibal matched steps with the medical personal as the rushed towards the ambulance and climbed into the back next to his William. He cast a challenging glare at one emergency worker who looked like he’d object but instead allowed the doctor to be by the battered man’s side.

He would never allow such a thing happen to William under his watch again.

Never.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (French) Mon Dieu: My God (Lithuanian)Idiotai: Idiots It's head cannon for me that Will would revert to Louisiana French words when he is under extreme distress as would Hannibal revert to using Lithuanian words . Any mistakes are my own. I wasn't sure if the FBI uses an arrest vehicle, so I kinda threw that in there (research only goes so far) ....I used to be a good person, then I picked this prompt to write and then I wrote this chapter. I need to go in a corner and deal with what I wrote. To keep tabs on the progress of the story, head to my tumblr: geeketeer.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, I revised the chapter a few times then scrapped it and wrote a totally new chapter which I feel works. Trigger warnings for the injuries since they result from Will's rape and assault.

**_“Enough white lies can scorch the earth black”-Isaac Marion_ **

The teacher had briefly woken in the ambulance and immediately went into a violent panic attack which forced one of the paramedics to forcefully strap the injured man down so he wouldn’t aggravate his injuries. Hannibal repressed the desire to slash the man’s throat; didn’t he know HE could have caused his William more injury by his actions instead of just sedating William?

Said paramedic managed to unwittingly spare his own life by permitting Hannibal to accompany them to the emergency surgery room when they arrived at the hospital. Fortunately, the head trauma surgeon recognized Hannibal as one of his ex-comrades and did not force the doctor to leave as they immediately went to work on the special agent, who was again unconscious due to the fatigue from his earlier struggle in the ambulance.

Hannibal ignored what the doctors where saying to each other about William’s injuries to focus and observe the man himself. The injured teacher had multiple bruises which decorated his body like a Christmas tree and had a few open wounds on his forehead. The former surgeon watched as the doctors had to clean up the blood on William’s face in order to access the depth and severity of the wounds on the injured profiler’s forehead.

Hannibal would only admit to himself he had allowed himself to wonder into his thoughts on the beginnings of revenge on the group of men who had dared to touch what was his as well as Freddie Lounds. While psychiatrist had admired what she wrote about his killings previously, he could no longer ignore the woman’s rudeness when it came to her articles and the material which she used to flesh out said writing. He really should have ended her when she pretended to be a patient in order to gain information about his William.

The doctor jolted out of his dark thoughts when the head trauma surgeon, Dr. Nicholas Holt, walked up to him and briefly explained they had taken blood for lab work and had treated the injuries to the best of their abilities. Holt guided Hannibal to the room where William was just wheeled into and left the former surgeon with a promise to return with the full scope of the profiler’s injuries.

Hannibal had taken his jacket off, hung it in the room’s closet and sat in the chair closest to the bed where his William rested. He idly rolled up his shirtsleeves to his elbows as he looked over at the special agent. Hannibal pressed his fingertips together as he watched his dear William’s monitors kept watch on the injured man’s vital signs with noisy beeps and staggering lines which danced along the screens.

He mused on his possessive thoughts on the profiler as he waited on Dr. Holt to return. Hannibal knew he was very territorial of items and people he considered his; he did still show up for his appointed therapy time with Bedelia, after all, despite her retirement after she had been attacked by a patient. Yet he did not have the same thoughts of his therapist that he did of his William.

Perhaps he wanted more than simple…friendship, with the special agent. Hannibal’s head slightly tilted at the thought. What did he want from William? The doctor knew he wanted the profiler to see and understand who and what Hannibal was—Hannibal’s true nature. He wanted William to accept him despite the truth, to not turn him in to Uncle Jack once he understood who Hannibal was, to stay by his side and to give him one of his rare smiles…

Hannibal’s eyes widened a fraction when he felt himself grow warm at the thought of William’s smile. No…no, it could not be possible for him to feel …love for the teacher? He took a metal step back and thought of what life may be like with William Graham as his domestic partner.

_William entered the kitchen and chuckled as he saw Hannibal season a set of lungs for their evening meal. He walked behind the doctor and put his head on the slightly taller man’s shoulder while he hugged him._

_“May I ask what this poor soul did to gain the attentions of notorious Chesapeake Ripper?” The special agent asked as he attempted to steal a kiss or two from the chef. Hannibal finally took pity on William with a smile and allowed his lips to caress the shorter man’s lips in a slow kiss._

_“A rather rude patient of mine,” the psychiatrist replied as he finally broke the kiss. “I’m afraid she was unaware of our relationship despite noticeable evidence and kept asking me rather…intrusive questions about you.”_

_William arched his eyebrow as he released Hannibal and slid beside him to rest his right hip against the counter. “I imagine there were more than questions; more like what she wanted to do with me, yes? And how did she know of me and not our relationship, anyway?”_

_Hannibal smiled at him as he sliced the lungs into strips. “She happened to see us dining together at the new café’ near Quantico and merely thought we were just old friends catching up. She became intrigued with you as soon as she saw you and started asking about you in her sessions.” The doctor put his knife aside and brushed his left hand against the teacher’s cheek. “Not that I could blame her but I did finally get through to her in the end.”_

_William slightly leaned into the touch and placed his right hand over Hannibal’s hand. The light glinted off his gold ring. “Not to observant, was she? Especially since she didn’t seem to notice the ring you wore not to mention I know you have our wedding picture in your office.”_

_Hannibal hummed as he withdrew from William, placed the lung strips in a milk bath and set them to soak in the fridge. “It is of no matter now, I have it in my notes that she was depressed and refused to take her medications. It is a shame that she disappeared before I could help her.”_

_“A shame indeed, I don’t suppose I’ll have a crime scene soon?” Will asked as Hannibal cleaned up the counter area from his food preparation._

_The doctor gave the special agent a slight grin as he finished cleaning and walked towards his husband._

_“No, beloved. She wasn’t worthy to become an art piece.” He yanked William and held him tightly to his chest. “Now, how shall we pass the time while the meat tenderizes? It will take sometime.”_

_William chuckled as he looped his arms around Hannibal’s neck and brushed his lips against his doctor’s jaw. “I’m sure we’ll come up with something.”_

Hannibal became aware he was becoming aroused during his thoughts and forced himself to calm down before Dr. Holt or a nurse came into the room to check on his William—it would not do to advertise what he felt for the injured man, especially after what he just went through.

At least the psychiatrist now had his answer; he loved William. Perhaps he could use the situation to gently manipulate the teacher into feeling the same for Hannibal during his recovery from his most unfortunate ordeal. It would have to go slow, however, as the teacher would be very skittish around other people for awhile. Hannibal did not like to admit it, but he would have to, as they say, “fly blind” during his maneuverings of William’s feelings.

It would be hard work, but having William at his side as his friend and lover would be more than worth it in the end.

* * *

 

Dr. Holt came into the room a few hours later and Jack entered the room almost immediately behind him. Hannibal noticed there were two guards stationed outside the room before the door closed behind the newcomers.

“We didn’t want to take a chance of someone else trying to hurt Will while he is injured,” Jack told the doctor when he noticed the man’s glance at the door.

Hannibal nodded and turned his attention to Dr. Holt, who cleared his throat as he prepared to talk about Will’s injuries.

“The blood work just came back from the lab and Mr. Graham is clean for STDs. We did find a mix of chemicals which rendered Mr. Graham unable to fight back much though it they did not touch his memory. He also has deep bruising all over his body, especially in his rib area. These are the kind of bruises professional football players receive after they’ve been tackled by a 300 pound person, gentlemen, and will take sometime to heal. As you see, he also sustained multiple wounds to his forehead which we cleaned and stitched up. Mr. Graham also has a concussion, as well as….and well…”

The man stopped and tapped his finger against the medical file he held in his hand. “He has extensive tearing in his anal area from his…from his assault and will need to be tended to carefully over the next several weeks. Also, during the beating he received, Mr. Graham’s nerves in his lower back were pinched which has caused weakness and limited mobility in his legs. I believe the condition will not be permanent and can be corrected with rest and time. Surgery will be the last resort if there is no improvement within the next eight months.”

Dr. Holt looked over to Jack. “I also sent the physical evidence of the physical and sexual assault to you fellows at the FBI. I hope you put those bastards away for a long time for what they have done. Please excuse me, I must leave to attend to my other patients.” Dr. Holt left and the two men stared at Will while they processed the information they were given.

“He forgot to mention the mental aspects of the assault,” Hannibal softly told Jack, who looked startled. “William will have it worse than other victims due to his empathy.”

Jack swore under his breath and nodded. “I’ve arranged for Will to take a year’s worth of recovery which can be reevaluated if his doctors say he needs less or more time to recover. If he is released for teaching but can’t travel the distance, I can arrange for him to teach via video conference with an assistant in the classroom.”

Hannibal leaned back in his chair and gave Jack a slight quirk of the lips in approval. “And is Alana taking care of his dogs while he is in the hospital?”

“Yes, she’s staying at his house for the duration, actually. She said it would be less of a hassle staying there instead of trying to round them all up to take them somewhere else.”

“It will take a few weeks for him to recover enough to be released, so that is good of her. I will be taking care of William at his home after he is released,” Hannibal held up a hand at Jack’s protest.

“Jack, William will need to be in familiar surroundings to recover and his home has the added benefit of being secluded from other people until he feels he can be in a crowd again and trust not to be attacked. Please remember that I do have experience in the medical field as well as the psychological. It would be best if I took over his care as Dr. Holt may also tell you.”

Jack sighed as he sat down in the room’s other chair in defeat. “I understand, Hannibal. I…we all would appreciate it. I know that he is in very good hands.”

Hannibal nodded and tapped his fingers against the chair’s armrest. “Jack, what has happened to the men who have been arrested for assaulting William?”

Jack huffed and sat back in his chair. “They were taken to the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. They are currently in isolation from the rest of the prisoners and each other. We couldn’t risk placing them in the regular jail facility as they were bragging about what they did to Will and kept going on about how they bested the Chesapeake Ripper. I’m sure they may try an insanity plea to get off when the trial comes about, but just attacking Will has seen that they will be put away for at least 20 years each since Will is a federal employee.”

The psychiatrist thinned his lips at Jack’s description of the mens’ actions. Pigs not fit to be slaughtered by him and most defiantly not good enough for his dinner table. They would need to at least live long enough for a trial as that would help give his dear William closure; he would have to think of a suitable punishment for them later.

He was about to ask Jack about Freddie Lounds when yelling outside of the door interrupted him. Jack and Hannibal rose from their seats and quickly opened the door, making sure Will was blocked from sight. Speak of the devil….

“Unhand me, you idiot,” Freddie hissed at a guard who had grabbed her arm. This was not going to her plans at all. She heard that Graham was in the hospital and she had attempted to flirt with the guards to let her in. When that didn’t work, she attempted to bribe them, which is when the guard grabbed her.

Jack and Hannibal exited the room and closed the door before Freddie realized they were there and before she could attempt to sneak a peak at Will.

Jack glared at her and motioned for other guard to arrest her. “Well, Ms. Lounds, you just saved us the trouble of having to find you for questioning.”

Freddie gaped at him as her hands were placed behind her back and cuffed while her rights were read to her. “What the hell are you talking about, Crawford? I just came to interview Graham, there isn’t a law against that.”

“There is a law against bribing a officer of the law, Ms. Lounds. Please be aware at this time we are getting a warrant to search your home and to question your employers at TattleCrime for your research and informants for your articles about Will Graham,” Jack spat out at her.

Freddie huffed and tossed her curly red hair as Jack took her from the guards and marched her towards the elevators with a bemused Hannibal following closely behind. “What for? I didn’t do anything wrong. The public has the right to know who works for the FBI and—"

“Not when your articles caused a group to attack and assault him to the point of serious injuries, Lounds,” Jack hissed into her ear, his voice low so others couldn’t hear him. The revelation stunned her into silence and allowed Jack to escort her to the elevators without further trouble.

Jack nodded at Hannibal as he pressed the button to call an elevator car. “You’ll let me know if there is any change in Will’s condition?”

Hannibal titled his head at Jack and thinly smiled at him. “Of course, Jack. I will be sure to take good care of William in your absence."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my headcannon, Hannibal always refers to Will as William. *shrugs* But now the ball gets rolling on the healing and revenge part of the plot, kiddies. Mama's got so much planned for these men and dearest Freddie for their trials and such *evil cackle* 
> 
> For story status, you can check geeketeer.tumblr.com


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, hi? Sorry it's been so long, real life decided to intrude on and I had a bit of a freak out. However, life decided to be nice to me this past week and I managed to get this written out. I'm hoping to at least update twice a month now, with all of the things going on in my life at this point, it may be more it may be less. I can't make any guarantees right now. But come hell or high water, this fic will be finished.

_**“Anger at lies lasts forever. Anger at truth can’t last.”-Greg Evans**_

Jack went back to the BAU Building after he took Freddie Lounds to the most secluded cell in the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. This was arranged more for her safety than convince, as many of the reporter’s articles featured locked up inmates in all the correctional facilities around Virginia and some of the surrounding areas and, well…

It was safe to say many prisoners were not flattered to be featured in Lounds’ articles. The BSHCI’s secluded cell was the safest option for now, which the reporter quickly agreed to after the BAU Head explained the reason for her incarceration at the facility.

Jack rubbed his eyes as he walked down to the meeting room where the rest of the team waited for him. They were unable to process and work on the case as the attack happened to their team mate and did not want to give a defense attorney any ammunition about them not being objective investigators about the attack. Fortunately, the BAU team was able to get unfiltered updates about the case from those who worked on the case, as a professional courtesy.

A warm hand on his shoulder jolted Jack from his thoughts and turned his head to see Hannibal’s concerned face. “Dr. Lecter, any change in Will?”

The psychiatrist shook his head. “William is still unconscious and will be for at least the next few days due to his injuries. I attempted to call to let you know I would meet with you here but your phone must not have been on.”

Jack pulled his phone from his pocket and winced when he realized the battery died while he transported the reporter to the hospital. “Sorry doctor, it looks like I forgot to fully charge my phone today.”

“Quite alright, especially due to the horrible events that took place today.”

The men walked into the room a few minutes later and Beverly handed them each a cup of coffee. “The good stuff from my private stash,” she explained and attempted to grin. “I felt we all could use a break from the muck served here.”

Jimmy and Brian nodded to the newcomers as they sipped from their own cups. Everyone picked a spot at a table and sat in a loud silence for a few minutes.

“Did anyone let Alana know what’s going on?” Jack asked.

“I did,” Hannibal responded as he fingered his coffee cup. While it wasn’t the swill the FBI attempted to pass off as a drinkable liquid, it wasn’t quite up to his standards. However, caffeine was caffeine—which the psychiatrist badly needed at that point—and he wasn’t about to be rude to Ms. Katz for her thoughtfulness. “I explained the entire situation and William’s condition. She will be here as soon as she can." 

Jack nodded and pressed his fingers together. “Good…that’s good.”

After a few beats of silence, the BAU Head suddenly pushed away from the table and stalked around the room, his anger grew with each step. He finally stopped after a few minutes and turned back towards the group.

“I just can’t believe that Jones and Ramirez, two of our own, had a hand in this—this ATROCITY!” He slammed a fist into a nearby wall and split his knuckles open due to the force of the blow. Hannibal gently tutted at him and retrieved a first aid kit tucked under the kitchenette’s sink. The psychiatrist shed his coat on the back of his chair and rolled up his shirt sleeves before he started working on Jack’s hand.

“Except they weren’t really ‘ours’ were they?” Brian said. His statement earned him curious looks from Beverly and Jimmy as well as side-eyed look from Jack, who flinched while Hannibal tended to his wounds. The doctor kept at his task and paid no mind to Brian.

The scientist huffed then explained “, If they were really ‘ours’, those two morons would not have even considered Lounds’ shoddy reporting and would have questioned the validity of her statements she made as well as how she got her information.” Brian took a long sip to finish off his drink and stared into the empty cup, as if it held the answers they needed to heal the day’s hurt. He sighed and pushed the cup away. “They should have known better…”

Jack snorted and flexed his bandaged hand in thought as Hannibal packed the first aid kit away. He looked over at the science team and started talking in a slow monotone. “He’s right….though I think a large part of it had to do with jealousy on both their parts. Jones applied year after year to join the team, but he simply made too many mistakes in the field in the past and would have dragged everyone down. Ramirez, however—”

He stood and walked around the table while rubbing his temple with his good hand. “Ramirez begged me to earn his field work hours with the team and I refused. I already made that mistake once with a rookie.” No one said anything as they knew he spoke of Miriam.

“Will has the experience working as a police officer for sometime before he came to the FBI and had a clean record until he was wounded on duty," Jack continued. "Ramirez joined the Academy without any sort of experience and I know he was angry when I rebuffed him when he pointed out Will didn’t have any practical FBI experience before he joined the team and he became really angry when I told him of Will’s field experience with his previous employment.”

“Does anyone know anything about the other three attackers yet?” asked Alana as she walked into the room. She gave them a shallow smile at the science team’s expressions. “The conversation echoed down the hall and I heard everything since Jack screamed his outrage. So, info on the other three?”

“Nothing much, though guy who injected that crap into Will works as a nurse at one of the local emergency rooms and stole the chemicals over a period of time so the thefts wouldn’t be noticed for sometime,” answered Jimmy.

“The older man in the group is an early retiree and the other is an accountant. That’s it for now—everyone available, except us, is working on this so the trials can be bumped into queue as soon as possible and resources are stretched a little thin right now due to budget restraints,” Brian added.

“It was found out that the men were planning this for a while, probably more than a month, at least,” Beverly said. “All sorts of information was found in their notebooks agents confiscated. They’re working on a warrant right now to get their cell and home phone records as well as to search their homes. It’ll probably get granted quickly as they did attack a government employee. Not to mention they were caught in the act.”

“And then bragged about it afterwards,” Alana muttered as she glared at the ceiling. “How long do you think it will take for the warrants to go through,” Hannibal suddenly said as he poured another cup for himself and prepped the coffee machine to brew another pot with Beverly’s approval. “And is there a warrant request to search Lounds’ records and property also?”

“No more than a few days, most likely,” Jack muttered as he sank into his sat. “An attack on one us is pretty serious and the top bosses prefer cases which deal with government employees to be wrapped up pretty quickly.”

“There is definitely a warrant in the works for Lounds’ stuff,” Beverly chimed in. “It helps that Little Freddie seems to have a bad habit of going after people who she felt had slighted her in someway—that is where her six libel cases came from, which gives us probable cause enough to ask for a warrant for invasion of privacy. The warrant is to see how she got some of her information for her past articles, since we all know Will would never volunteer that kind of info to her.”

“What I don’t get is how they all met in the first place,” Jimmy stated while he frowned at the table. “I mean, Jones and Ramirez, I could understand those two knowing each other from around the building, but the others?”

Beverly and Brian stared at him, then looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

“That’s the wonder of the Internet, Jimbo,” Beverly said, “TattleCrime has a forum where people can discuss articles and chat with the staff of the web site. They met up in a chat session about Lounds’ articles and befriended each other.”

“Which turned into a vengeful posse after they started to take that—that woman’s articles seriously,” Alana stated as she wandered to the kitchenette. She grabbed a cup from the counter, poured the rest of coffee into it and sipped on it as she paced the length of the room.

Jimmy snorted. “That’s the problem with a lot of people who read her stuff—at least three-quarters of her readership believe everything Lounds says or implies in her writing. She can do no wrong, otherwise.”

‘Except that there will be plenty of evidence to find on all of them, with a little help on uncovering the hidden evidence’ the doctor thought as he washed out the empty coffee pot and placed it in the machine to brew more coffee.

Hannibal was fully aware on how a competent defense lawyer could spin any evidence towards a softer verdict for all the men. Not to mention any potentially damning evidence may be exceptionally hard, or almost impossible, to find since two of the group worked for the FBI and had access to knowledge to get rid of and expertly hide evidence.

He hid a grin behind his mask while he soaked in the conversation around him. While Hannibal knew the FBI agents were more than capable of finding the evidence to put the men away, the doctor didn’t want to leave anything to chance. For once, he decided to use his skills to help law enforcement out.At least he had a few days to get the information from the FBI databases and get into the men’s dwellings by then to set everything up.

Hannibal also wanted the men to stay within Chilton’s facility. No doubt that charlatan of a psychiatrist would attempt to ferret out why five supposedly sane men would want to take such cruel punishment on Hannibal’s William. Not to mention that Chilton would most likely create some entertaining revenge for the men as it was widely known that the doctor had wanted to get into William’s head for quite sometime and would be put out that the men almost took his chance away from him.

Not that Chilton would get his chance to study William any time soon. Hannibal would rather gut the pretentious man and leave him buried alive in the woods before that happened. Or perhaps he could goad on of Chilton’s patients or employees to do so for him.—Dr. Abel Gideon, perhaps? An entertaining thought for a different time.

The major reason the secret cannibal wanted the men to stay in the BSHCI was that most of the inmates at the hospital were truly incapable of congratulating the group when the men would brag about their deeds since inmates were usually drugged out of their senses to stay manageable and the few who were not drugged held a strange admiration for law enforcement officials who had caught them. As William had caught most of them, they wouldn’t take kindly to the men who had injured the only man smart enough to catch them. The pigs would have quite a different expectation of what was to come of their incarceration, Hannibal would ensue that. 

The reporter on the other hand...Hannibal, to be frank, wasn’t sure what to do with her quite yet. Unsavory and unethical as her behavior had been in writing the articles, she most likely wouldn’t be locked up in jail for her part and would most likely face a huge monetary fine as well as sentenced for time served. He wanted her to suffer before he turned her piggish self into a masterpiece—better to show the world for what she was before he got his hands on her, after all.

The psychiatrist halted his thoughts as the discussion among the group petered out. The coffee finished brewing and he took the pot to the table to refill everyone’s cups, including his own, and was thanked for his efforts. He set the pot back onto the warming coil and rejoined them at his place at the table.

A beat of silence and then Beverly blurted out “, I’m kind of surprised Lounds only has six cases against her. I mean, is it possible that she wrote under a pseudonym and managed to hide any other libel cases against her?”

Brian took a long draw of his coffee thoughtfully as he considered the question. “It could be possible, though how she’d manage to hide that from her employer and their insurance is beyond me. TattleCrime may be a rag, but they have to be through about that kind of thing since it could damage their creditability with the insurance company and their rates could either go up or be refused further service for not telling the truth about their employee’s past.”

“Hey, remember that one movie we watched a while back when we had the team movie marathon night we held for ‘bonding time’?” Beverly asked suddenly. The BAU team had taken to doing an event outside of work together at least twice a month to strengthen the ties between them. They were all surprised when Will had been the one to suggest it, but it worked in the end and it did bring them to trust each other more.

“Something based on that journalist who lied in the Nineties?” Jimmy asked, head tilted in thought and drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “All I remember it had glass in the name…”

“Shattered Glass,” Alana said. “Yeah, I remember that. It was a huge scandal. Stephen Glass, the guy the movie centered on, passed his bar exam sometime in the early 2000’s but isn’t allowed to practice law due to his damaged reputation as being unethical. He also wrote a book on about what happened, but it didn’t sell too well. No one was really interested in what a guy who took such pains to lie to a national publisher had to say, I suppose.”

“Yeah, that movie,” Jimmy responded. “I thought that would have happened to Lounds by now, but I suppose we can’t have that kind of luck.”

“It is unfortunate,” Hannibal said while he titled his head downward to hid a glint in his eye. “It would have saved us a lot of trouble. Life doesn’t always provide what we want, however.”

“Maybe the higher ups will now listen when we ask that start slapping fines on that woman for interfering with our work,” Jack muttered to his coffee cup. “Maybe this could have been avoided.”

Hannibal reached over and placed his hand over Jack’s bandaged hand. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it Jack, she’ll get what she deserves in the end.”

‘I’ll see to that,’ the psychiatrist thought to himself.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have the chance, I highly recommend watching Shattered Glass. It is an interesting look at what lengths Stephen Glass took to hide the truth from the fact checkers and how he got caught. I usually blurt out story progress at geeketeer.tumblr.com


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise update! My muse whacked me upside the head while I had some precious downtime and I wrote this. We're taking a break from the BAU gang and Hannibal to check in on Reporter Dearest. Also, cussing ahoy ahead. Just a heads up.

**_“A rumor is usually a lie that the media can legally profit from”- Mokokoma Mokhonoana_ **

Freddie Lounds tapped her fingernails against the metal tabletop in one of the Baltimore State Hospital’s private visitation rooms while she waited for TattleCrime’s lawyer to show up. A slender finger toyed with a lock of curly red hair in boredom. Didn’t that dratted lawyer know Freddie was on the scent of another story and didn’t want to waste any more precious time locked up in this place?

“Vigilantes Exact Justice on FBI’s Pet” had a good ring to it. Or maybe she’d come up with something snappier later. If only she could get out of this hack institution to conduct her special brand of research for the story.

She couldn’t deny that she had been momentarily stunned when Crawford told her a group of men attacked the unstable man after reading all her articles about him, as the beefy BAU Head practically dragged her here after arresting her on the bribery charge.

Freddie hadn’t meant for an attack to happen, but she wasn’t all that sorry either. Graham was always under the threat of being attacked since he was under the FBI’s employ; it was a work hazard. Surely he should have known he wasn’t that well liked with a lot of people…after all, who could be comfortable with someone who practically knows all your secrets within a small space of time? Graham should have been prepared to defend himself.

It wasn’t her fault at all, none what so ever. She didn’t tell those men to attack Graham, they couldn’t pin it on her. 

There was no proof she ordered the attack...the investigation would see to that and the FBI would be forced to apologize to her—maybe even be forced to pay her damages for time lost from her job.

Perhaps Freddie could squeeze another story out of it—the click through revenue may make up for what time she lost in here on the stupid charge.

She checked the clock, placed high up near the ceiling, for the twelfth time since she was escorted to the room via private hallways—private being that no other prisoners could see her. Chilton didn’t want the few non-drugged inmates to cause a riot if they saw one of their least favorite people.

Freddie mentally shrugged to herself; it didn’t mean anything to her that some disgusting convicts didn’t like her for what she wrote about them…she was only doing her job, after all. Putting their dirty laundry out in print was one of the ways that made her articles the highest viewed in the company and which compensated her very well, one of the highest paid reporters for TattleCrime, thank you very much. She didn’t mind stepping on a few toes to stay on top and didn’t mind getting her hands dirty to get the information she wanted.

Speaking of stepping on toes… Freddie wouldn’t be surprised if Chilton had placed her in here early due to some sort of pettiness on his part; he certainly didn’t like her after she attacked his professional character in an article a few months back. Perhaps an article on how he treated his “patients” would be in the works?

Maybe this place wasn’t so bad if she had gotten three story ideas in such a short span of time, she mused.

Freddie was startled out of her thoughts as the door blasted open and a tall, well-built African-American man dressed in a well-tailored suit stalked into the room. She immediately pasted on her best smile and straightened herself up in the hard seat. He glared at her in return.

Daniel Nade was decidedly NOT happy with having to deal with this idiot Lounds woman again, not so soon after her last libel settlement—her sixth with the company so far. Well, as far as he knew anyway, he wouldn’t put it past the unethical reporter to have buried some of her past from TattleCrime before they hired her two years ago.

Not to mention all the other cases against her that he managed to get dismissed, due to technicalities in the law.

Daniel was one of the best lawyers in the Media Law field and here he was practically playing nanny to this stuck-up entitled bitch because she didn’t have a shred of decency about her when it came to her job. He was sure she was either blackmailing or sleeping with the Head Editor for her position within the company—knowing her, though, it may be both.

Lounds may be good at her job, but so were many other reporters at the company and they all did their jobs without pissing people off in law enforcement and without getting kidnapped by fucking psychopaths with mommy and daddy issues who wanted attention.

The other employees also weren’t a constant thorn in his side; all he had to deal with before fucking Lounds was hired was the occasional arrest because the reporters were in the wrong place at the wrong time, put the wrong thing in an article…whatever. Small actions, hardly worth a judge’s time usually, and easy enough to handle.

Daniel missed those days fiercely.

He was well aware that his reputation within legal circles was starting to deteriorate due to her fucking thoughtless actions. “Lounds’ Legal Bitch” is what they called him. Daniel hated it, but he could also—very grudgingly—see his comrades’ point. Every time he had to file legal cases to defend the company within the last two years, Lounds was the cause of it.

It was almost laughable to think that TattleCrime used to be a climbing well-respected star on the reporting blog circuit, when he joined the company seven years ago. Now the blog was more of a fucking cheap trash-rag-magazine in electronic format, thanks to Lounds. Daniel was aware that many of the company’s reporters were embarrassed to be connected TattleCrime due to Lounds’ unethical actions and were looking for other work.

He couldn’t blame them; he longed to do the same thing, after all. Fucking contract, he was locked in for another three years before he could look for other work without penalties on his part.

Daniel threw his leather briefcase on the table (he used it today just to piss off Lounds), barely resisting the urge to throw it at her head. He sat down at the table across from her and tightly clasped his hands together.

“Well Ms. Lounds, isn’t this a fine mess you got yourself into?”

She humphed and tossed her hair over her shoulder. Danny was lucky he was handsome or she’d get him fired for his backtalk towards her. “Whatever, what’s the fine that needs to be paid so I can get out of here? I have work to do, you know.”

He closed his eyes, drew a deep breath and reminded himself that it wouldn’t be okay to strangle the arrogant woman. “It isn’t that simple, Ms. Lounds. Aren’t you aware of the penalty for bribing an officer?”

Freddie rolled her eyes. How stupid did he think she was? “The fine is three times the amount of the bribe, so when can I get out of here?”

Daniel stared at her and clutched at the table’s edge. It was a good thing it was bolted down to the floor. “I have no FUCKING idea where you got that information. Bribery of a law enforcement official is a Class Four Felony in the State of Virginia. As in, this charge isn’t going to go way, Ms. Lounds.” He barely remembered to add the honorific in his rage.

“Meaning, what, that I have to pay thousands of dollars of fines instead of just triple the original amount? Just get it paid, Danny, I have research to do and apologies to collect from the FBI!”

“Yes, it is a ten thousand dollar fine and it is also punishable with a prison sentence.—up to ten years, to be precise.” He held back a smirk at her paling face and mentally reminded himself to not enjoy her discomfort. He was better than that, after all.

Freddie’s mouth suddenly ran dry and a lump formed in her throat. Apparently she had old information and should have double-checked. “But…”

“And,” Daniel injected. “There are now other charges against you. You’re not getting out of here anytime soon. At least not until the trail begins.”

“Other charges?” she echoed. “What ‘other charges’ can there be? I was only arrested for bribery! They can’t do that! They can’t pin that attack on that fucking psycho against me!!”

He thinned his lips at her arrogance. “Yes, there are other charges; they have every legal right to add other charges and no, they aren’t ‘pining the attack’ on you. During their investigation at your home, guess what they found? A make-shift burglary kit, complete with lock-picks—which had been recently used. Would you care to tell me something, Ms. Lounds?”

She breathed deeply. The FBI couldn’t prove anything, they didn’t have the evidence of her recent trespass on Graham’s property after all. “It must have been—”

“Don’t.You.Dare.Say.It.Was.Planted,” Daniel enunciated each word and his glare intensified. “They found the receipt in plain sight on your desk as well as a statement from the owner of the small tool shop you bought it from. He thought it was odd you’d buy those particular items to get into your car which you ‘locked yourself out of’.”

Freddie frowned and glared back at him. “I was locked out of my car and further more, I—”

He cut her off again. “They also checked your vehicle’s locks to see if it picked recently to see if the story held up and none of the locks show any sign of being accessed with a lock-pick set.”

Daniel wasn’t enjoying seeing her squirm, he wasn’t. Well, maybe a little. More than a little, if he were to be frank.

“Not to mention they also found some documents also on your desk. In plaint sight, right next to the receipt for the kit. Documents.Which.Did.Not.Belong.To.You. Care to explain THAT little fact?”

“I—that is, I was given a copy of the originals from—”

“Spare me from your fucking lies,” he dropped any pretense of professionalism. “They belonged to Will Graham, who fucking hates your guts, who wouldn’t even piss on you if you were on fire in the middle of the fucking dessert. THE GUY YOU FUCKING WENT AFTER FOR THE LAST FEW MONTHS OF ARTICLES! So why the FUCK would he give you his birth certificate? Why the FUCK would he give you his resume? And his past doctors’ information and whatever the-hell-other-documentation I’m forgetting? Hmm?”

She flushed but held the pissed-off lawyer’s glare. “I was just doing my job and gathering information about the subject.”

He sat back in his chair and resisted the urge to slam her head against the table. Daniel idly wondered if he should start looking up psychiatrists for anger issues after he left. There was no way that the intensity of these emotions could be healthy.

“So not only do you have the bribery charge against you, you also have breaking and entering as well as theft and invasion of privacy,” Daniel snarked at her. He then slapped a sarcastic smile on his face and spread his hands. “And let’s not forget our oldest, dearest, most favorite friend, LIBEL!” He slapped his hands against the table on the last word.

The lawyer took a moment to compose himself; he was a fucking professional, damn it, and would act as such. He cared about his image, unlike a certain bitch reporter. He stood up, straightened his suit and paced around the room, allowing what he said to sink into that thick head of hers.

Freddie had to remind herself to breath and told herself that everything would be fine. Of course it would; Danny would make sure she’d be okay in the end. It was his job, after all. He had done so several times.

“Well, can’t I at least post bail or something? Or get moved to another facility, at least?”

“No. Apparently your past is now catching up to you, Ms. Lounds. No judge is willing to extend a bail sentence towards you as , depending on the investigation, there may be other charges against you. No one trusts you enough to try to cover up any evidence there may be,” Daniel said as continued his circuit around the room. He was starting to feel a bit calmer but decided he’d look for a psychiatrist anyway—better for his well-being, all in all.

“And you can forget about being moved somewhere else. I already spoke to Jack Crawford and a few other officials. It’d be far too dangerous for your health to be moved to another facility as you really pissed-off a lot of inmates with your articles. A LOT of inmates, about more than three-quarters of them.”

“But I didn’t write about THAT many people!” She cried out.

Daniel leveled a glare at her. “It doesn’t matter. Inmates are tight with each other and a lot of people you wrote about have friends every where. Word travels quickly about your articles, Lounds.” He decided not to be nice to her anymore; she made her bed, she needed to learn to lay in it.

Freddie chewed her bottom lip furiously, no longer caring about the marks it would leave later. “But…but the FBI can’t charge me with libel on Graham’s behalf—can they?”

“No, they can’t. But they CAN level a charge of libel on you on their own behalf…and there is a lawyer on Agent Graham’s behalf filing libel charges on his behalf…as well as some of the other charges I already told you about,” Daniel said, his words dragged from his lips at a slower pace. He stopped circling the room and leaned against the wall, right beside the door.

“I never said anything about the FBI!”

Daniel wondered if Lounds lived on another planet sometimes. Maybe she needed to see a shrink more than he did. “Yes, you did. You practically accused the FBI of incompetence and of hiring a murderer. They have every right to go after you.”

She slumped down in her chair and stared at the table. It just wasn’t fair. She was only doing her job. Why was she being punished for that?

‘Well,’ she thought as David continued to talk. ‘There will be hell to pay after this is said and done. I’ll make sure of it and I’ll come up on top where I belong.’

* * *

 

Daniel rubbed his left temple as he exited the hospital’s doors and walked towards his car. Lounds didn’t seem to comprehend how utterly fucked she was; she was more focused on her current accommodations. He didn’t understand why TattleCrime’s owners put up with her fucking immature antics.

He paused as he climbed into his car and started it. Perhaps Bill Dougharty and Ace yes-that-is-what-is-on-my-birth-certificate Blacksworth DIDN'T know, they have been mostly hands off since they hired the Head Editor, Frank Smith, three-and-a-half years ago.

Bill and Ace handled the monetary side while Frank handled the day-to-day running of the company. It would be nothing for Frank to hide the company’s falling reputation and a certain reporter’s actions—for being in the news biz, Bill and Ace were a bit naïve and oblivious to the events around them.

Not to mention the two men didn’t hire the employees themselves after Frank was hired. Damn, they probably were in the dark about the whole mess. He’d have to talk to them sooner rather than later. Daniel made a mental note to make an appointment to talk with them tomorrow.

He was about to pull out of the parking spot when his phone rang. Daniel looked at it and wanted to groan. It was the insurance company getting back to him. He put the car back in park and allowed it to idle while he answered the phone.

“Yes, this is Daniel Nade,” he said. His eyes widened at the statement the person on the other side of the phone side made. David thanked them and hung up the phone.

Change of plans, he had to see Bill and Ace immediately.

Technically, he was supposed to report to Frank for matters of libel insurance as it fell under his jurisdiction but since he fucked up so royally with handling Lounds, Daniel made the executive decision to go over his head.

He hit one of the quick dial buttons for TattleCrime’s owners, he didn’t care which one as long as he got one of them, as he fitted a Bluetooth to his ear so he could talk and drive and the same time. Time was of the essence.

Daniel tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he waited at the red light. The ringing stopped in his ear as a man answered the phone.

“Hey, Bill, its Daniel. Yeah, listen, we really need to talk in person about the company. Is now a good time? Great…oh, Ace is there too? Perfect. No, I shouldn’t talk about this on the phone, this is something better said in person. Yes, I understand. I’ll be at your office in a few minutes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't remember if other animal products, such as leather, would piss off Lounds, so I'm (possibly?) messing with her character to include that. Some of the legal stuff is research, other parts is me messing with reality as research only goes so far at times unless you are a lawyer. Any guesses on who got a lawyer for Will and who the lawyer is? Free imaginary cookies for those who guess correctly. Story status updates is usually found at geeketeer.tumblr.com


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we check in on the other inmates at the hospital. The main cast will return next chapter.

**_“Things come apart so easily when they have been held together with lies” – Dorothy Allison_ **

Frederick Chilton rolled his eyes as he listened and watched the security footage of Freddie Lounds’ complaining and pacing in her cell on his laptop. She ranted about the same things: her being stuck in Chilton’s facility, how she shouldn’t have been arrested and didn’t anyone know how being stuck in the damnable cell was a waste of her valuable time when she could be out there getting the scoop on a new story?

Really, it wasn’t like it was HIS fault that the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane was the safest place for her at the moment.

Well, it wasn’t like Frederick was going out of his way to be overly accommodating to the red-headed menace; he only agreed to provide a safe, private cell to house her until her trail was over. This wasn’t a five-star hotel, after all.

The psychiatrist had to hide his glee after she had been escorted back to her cell from her lawyer’s visit when the rules of the hospital were explained to her. Yes, she had to wear the hospital’s inmate uniform. No, she could not have access to her electronics or other personal items until she went to her trail and only then she would be allowed her own clothing and minimal accessories. Yes, they had a vegetarian option for her meals and no, it would not be catered from an upscale restaurant.

He smirked at the memory of the disgusted look on her face as he poured a healthy measure of brandy from a nearby decanter into a glimmering tumbler.

Having her incarcerated in his facility was a delicious (and pleasantly delightful) revenge indeed for that slanderous article she wrote about him a few months ago about how he manipulated his patients for certain…intimate favors. The half-Cuban man still wasn’t completely sure why that thrice-damned woman decided to go after him; he had only co-operated with her in the past, after all.

Frederick was thankful that many of his peers backed him up and acted as character witnesses when he filed the lawsuit against her. While some of his colleagues didn’t like him for getting the position at the hospital while he was 30 years old or for using certain psychological techniques to treat his patients, they new he would never breech such ethical and legal boundaries.

The judge had not been happy to see Lounds in her court room at all, Frederick remembered as he sipped at the alcohol. He later learned that Judge Marlene Jackson had the misfortune to get all of Lounds’ cases since she was the ONLY judge in the Tri-State area who wasn’t pissed off at the reporter for something written in TattleCrime. Frederick had a feeling that Judge Jackson would refuse to handle Lounds’ latest trail on the basis it would be a conflict of interest as she had presided over far too many of Lounds’ lawsuits.

Frederick wagered a judge from another part of the country would have to be flown in to handle the unethical reporter’s trial…most likely from the West Coast as she successfully alienated most of the judges along the Eastern Seaboard as well as some along the Gulf Coast.

Judge Jackson had sighed and put a resigned look on her face as she presided over Frederick’s libel case. The trial only took a few hours as his lawyer made sure all evidence and witnesses were accounted for. Frederick was sure the judge made up her mind shortly after Lounds’ “credible sources” admitted under oath the reporter had basically put words in their mouths and had shown them tampered evidence of the hospital head’s supposed guilt.

Not only was he awarded more than $1.5 million for damages, the hateful woman was forced to write an apology and redaction article. It published on TattleCrime’s web site as well as many of the front pages of the Tri-State area’s prominent newspapers.

The psychiatrist simply couldn’t understand how anyone could trust anything the hateful woman wrote when she had so many lawsuits against her. He supposed that people refused to rely on their critical thinking skills anymore.

Frederick swirled the dark amber liquid in the crystal tumbler in his right hand as his left hand switched his computer screen’s view from the damned reporter to a five way split-screen to view the men responsible for the attack on Will Graham. He sneered as one of the men launched into a tirade about how he should be given a “fucking medal” for stopping the Chesapeake Ripper instead of being locked up.

Oh, how he longed to inflect his creative punishments onto the men and Lounds. A long session with a televangelist would do them ALL a world of good, in his professional opinion. Alas, he did not want to give their lawyer any ammunition to get them off on a technicality for “cruel and unusual punishment” as they weren’t his patients—yet, anyway. But he would have free reign over their care if they were incarcerated in his facility for their crimes.

He tore the earphones from his head and shut the laptop in an attempt to control his anger. How anyone could believe Will Graham was the Ripper was beyond him, especially based on shoddy “evidence” Lounds’ “uncovered” for her articles about the man. Just because his empathy made him see the killer’s point of view did not make the man a killer.

Will Graham…Frederick sighed and allowed his thoughts to wonder to the scruffy man as he leaned back into his chair and swallowed a good portion of his brandy. The special agent absolutely fascinated the psychiatrist when he first heard about him—what psychiatrist could resist his mix of disorders and empathy? Technically, the man shouldn’t be able to function on his own in society.

Then he happened to sit in on one of the teacher’s open lectures about profiling out of curiosity...

Frederick’s interest became more than professional, to say the least. The empath wasn’t usually what he looked for in a potential partner as the psychiatrist preferred his partners to have style, manners and a sort of gentility or grace about them—of which Will lacked. But Frederick was able to see the potential under all the scruff and cheap flannel. It would only take the right person to revel a precious, rare jewel.

It was a fluke that many had taken his…personal interest in Will as an obsessed professional interest to study his abilities and the rumor had spread through the psychiatric field like wild fire. That Will had learned of the rumors and made him wary against Frederick was quite unfortunate.

His actions towards the teacher when they first met face to face didn’t spin things in Frederick’s favor either, he remembered with a groan. Of course the empath had to more even more stupidly attractive up close, which of course made Frederick blurt out the stupidest things before his brain-to-mouth filter could engage. No way he would look twice at the psychiatrist now…

And of fucking course Jack Crawford caught on to why the head of the hospital displayed over-the-top behavior and of course it seemed to fucking amuse the BAU head to no end. The burly man’s observation skills were a major reason he was promoted to his position, Frederick mused. It was a pity his wife’s illness seemed to throw those abilities out the window which was the major reason Crawford pulled Will back into the field.

Though perhaps he should have pulled Will onto the team in a more understated way—it may have prevented the teacher from getting onto Lounds’ radar and them perhaps he wouldn’t have been injured…

The psychiatrist felt his stomach twist when he remembered what he learned about Will Graham’s injuries. It could be argued the men were not sane at the time of the attack, but if that were true…the profiler would have been far more injured than what he had been. Rage-fueled so-called “vigilante” attacks were usually far more brutal and would have seen the special agent with major blood loss, multiple broken bones and either dead or close to death at the scene of the attack.

He pushed away his uneasiness as he eyed the files on his desk, which contained limited information about his newest unofficial charges. The court would want a professional opinion on why five supposedly sane men decided to attack an unarmed man based on newspaper articles. No doubt their lawyer would attempt to get them off on a temporary insanity plea or some other stupid reason they should get light sentences.

Which would not be happening on his watch, Frederick thought as he arranged the files on his desk. What they did was vile and should have the full weight of the law come crashing down upon their heads. Of course, evidence the FBI had already collect and continue to discover will ensure the men will be punished in some form.

Frederick felt as the severity of the punishments would hinge on the metal stability of the men.

He mentally catalogued basic information about the men from their incomplete files:

-Chris Jones, 38, Ballistics Expert, FBI. Fifteen years with the department, a rising star in the ballistics field for his observations of striation markings and ways they could be disguised. Had applied multiple times to join Crawford’s team but rejected based on his numerous mistakes while he was a field agent.

-David Ramirez, 27, FBI Trainee. Graduated at the top of his class with a Bachelors in Criminal Justice . No previous law enforcement experience and in the final year of study at the FBI Academy. Top of his class for profiling.

-Vernon Craig,46,Early Retiree. Worked as a public school teacher for English, History and Basic Computer Science for about twenty years and started a computer security software business on the side to earn more income. Retired early after a huge corporation bought his side business in a multi-million dollar deal.

-Kyle Jimenez, 30, Registered Nurse. Graduated early with a Bachelors of Science in Nursing. Worked at a local hospital immediately after graduation.

-Lee Wilkins,29,Accountant. Graduated at the top of his class at Harvard for Business Accounting. Worked in a multi-million dollar corporation for the past six years.

Frederick refilled his tumbler as he fought off a head-ache. The men displayed intelligence, have (or had) good jobs and brilliant futures ahead of them. No record of criminal history for any of them and no indications of troubled family histories, either. They had nothing in common except for being readers of TattleCrime.com and being in agreement that Will was the Ripper due to Lounds’ fucking incompetence as a reporter.

He swept the files to the side as he opened the laptop again and started scheduling appointments with each man. With nothing to go on in the files, he would only hope that they would say something incriminating during a session with him—which of course would be recorded with written notes, audio and video which would be duplicated and handed in for the judge to review at their trial.

After making the necessary interview arrangements, a notification pop-up on his screen and Frederick frowned when he read it. He had five new low-risk patients which were scheduled to be admitted within the next few days.

This meant he would have to move the men into other cells quickly—the ones they occupied at present were really for new patients to adjust to the hospital setting before being moved into permanent cells.

He clicked open another program to see the listings of open cells. There were a few options, but unfortunately, the empty cells were grouped together instead of individually in separate areas of the hospital. He rejected a few options as those areas were for the more unstable patients. His eyes fell onto the cell rooster where there was only one inmate in the entire wing and smirked when he saw exactly which inmate it was….though perhaps he should tell the head of the investigation about the move beforehand.

Frederick reached across the desk and quickly dialed the correct number. “Ah, yes, Agent Dolan. This is Doctor Chilton….”

* * *

 

Frederick clasped his hands behind his back as the orderlies brought the men into the group therapy room and suppressed the urge to roll his eyes when the men started gloating and congratulating each other for their deeds as they were herded into individual therapy cages. These men had to have some sort of inadequacy issues if they feel the need to continue bragging, he thought.

He cleared his throat to get their attention. “Gentlemen, this seems to be your lucky day. You are being moved into different cells grouped together in a different part of the hospital as I have need for your current cells.”

A couple of them started to make noises of celebration before Frederick cut them short. “However, you will be sharing the wing with only one inmate. And I felt that all of you should get acquainted while preparations are made.”

Frederick moved to the side and the men saw the cage which had been behind the psychiatrist. A stocky, lightly-bearded man sat in the cage raised an eyebrow at the men and threw them a small smirk. “Well, it’s always nice to make new friends.”

The men stared at him in horror.

The red-haired man, Jones, threw Abel Gideon a dirty look and then glared at Frederick. “You can’t put us with him. He’s crazy! And he’s killed and attacked innocent people!”

The former surgeon tilted his head and narrowed his eyes as he glanced at each person of the group. “And you lot didn’t? I imagine you wouldn’t be in this lovely facility, otherwise.”

“We gave Graham, who IS the Ripper, his just desserts. They should throw us a fucking parade instead of treating us like low-life criminals,” shouted Jones, who seemed to be the spokesman of the group.

Gideon stared at them then looked at Frederick who silently confirmed the man’s claims with a nod. The former surgeon looked at the floor and his shoulders started shaking. He threw his head back as his rumbled laughter filled the space.

The psychopath got himself under control but couldn’t seem to help the amused look on his face. “Him? Oh, you lot are fucked in the head worse than I am, aren’t you? The guy is practically a boy scout.”

He leaned in as close toward the group as far as the bars allowed and the group, in turn, backed away as far as they could. But they could all see the glimmer of hatred towards them in his eyes. “I’ve met the man, great at his job, if not underappreciated. He only asked me a few questions before it was apparent that I wasn’t the Ripper—he only wanted the truth, unlike a majority of other people who tend to poke at me with sticks.”

Frederick decided to take his leave. “All of you will be taken to your cells once everything is ready. Do enjoy yourselves.”He strode out of the room as quickly as he could.

Gideon smirked as the men grew uncomfortable with being alone with a confirmed murderer.

“So, how should I recount the ways that you lot are fucking stupid?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frederick can't help but have unrequited love, poor thing. I didn't plan to write that...it sort of wrote itself and Gideon also snuck in and wanted to play. He's probably a bit OC, but I see him as having a fucked up respect for Will, so....*shrugs* For status updates: geeketeer.tumblr.com


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